Blood and Beasts

Chapter 1

***Trigger Warning***--- violence against lgbtqia person in this chapter

A demon was close. Cara was certain of that. A familiar twisting pain had gripped her guts and was steadily making its way up her throat.

She sighed, trying to push the discomfort out of mind, leaning against the side of the borrowed car they'd been stuck in all day. A truck blared down the country road behind her, its high beams bouncing off the motel windows, stinging Cara's eyes. She needed sleep bad.

"Thanks," she heard in the distance, as Jack finished up at the motel office. Cara quickly grabbed her duffle bag out of the car and met him halfway.

"You doing alright?" he asked.

Cara gave a curt nod in response.

"So? A demon?"

"Probably."

"We got a busy morning to look forward to then. We best get some rest," he said with a gentle smile, tossing her a set of room keys.

"Sounds fine by me. See you in the morning."

"Night, Cara."

She took off to her room, listening as Jack finished up at the car. A busy morning was a grave simplification, but they both were well aware of that. At least the twisting of her insides was starting to lessen; a good night's sleep might be possible after all.

Though as she approached her room at the far end of the rundown roadside motel, a different sensation began to tingle through her core. An unpleasant feeling, but one she was even more familiar with. She turned the key reluctantly, knowing exactly what was on the other side of the door.

Cara walked in and glanced down at the corner by the door, swinging it shut behind her. A teenage boy was curled up there, face covered in tears, the rest of him covered in blood. Stab wounds in his chest and slashes on his arms continued to pump out blood, but that wasn't a concern anymore. He had been dead a long time.

Cara set her duffle bag down quickly on the bed, before turning her attention to the boy. He was young, couldn't have been more than seventeen. She sat down on the carpet next to him, feeling the blood on her skin, but that wasn't a concern either. It wasn't really there. The boy was hyperventilating and clutching himself, clawing at his shirt and jeans.

As she sat there, memories started rushing through her mind, threatening to overtake her in grisly flashes. Suddenly she was fourteen again, racing up the stairs of her home, screaming out for her mom and Nolan. All the blood. So much blood. And that damn pool.

Cara shook her head, focusing on the boy shaking beside her. He needed her now.

This boy had probably died years ago, before Cara was even born, but she still felt the connection, could feel who this kid was as she sat close to him.

He was gay, kicked out by his parents as soon as they found out. Maybe he had friends to stay with for a while, but probably not. Cara could only guess based on his clothing, but she figured he had lived and died in the seventies, a hard time to be different. He must have run, far away from everything and everyone he knew, tried his best to start a new life, but how many options were their for a child barely grown with no one to turn to and nowhere to sleep?

There was bound to be someone that came along and took advantage of this boy, some older man perhaps, who offered to take him in from the cold in exchange for company through the night. It wasn't this man who killed him, no, probably not, but another that came after with a similar offer and more sinister intents. This man surely hated the thoughts this boy inspired in his mind, hated wanting to see the boy naked, wanting to be inside him, and for that he had to kill this poor boy.

He stabbed him once, taking the boy by surprise. He slashed more as the boy raised his arms to defend himself, cowering into the corner. But he was bigger and stronger than the boy, and the boy was already bleeding out. As he grew weak, the man continued to stab. There was a lot of pain, a lot of fear, and then nothing.

And then the same, over and over. Caught in an infinite loop.

Cara knew all this as she sat next to the boy, but she could also only guess that she knew this. It was like remembering something from long ago, and a feeling, a random scent was bringing those memories back almost to the point where they were clear. But not quite.

She felt for this boy. He didn't deserve what had happened to him, and he didn't deserve to relive that pain for eternity, feeling himself bleed out on this dirty motel floor.

Cara reached her arm out and placed it around the boy. It wasn't like touching a person; there wasn't solid flesh and bones there to feel. It was the feeling of two negatively charged magnets moving close to one another, reacting, feeling, but not quite meeting. The boy jumped slightly at her touch. It was good he was aware of her; he wasn't too far gone yet.

"It's okay," Cara whispered. "It's okay." She repeated this, over and over. She listened to his panicked breaths as they slowly calmed. "It's okay. It's okay. You are loved. You are loved. You deserve to be loved. It's okay. It's okay." Her arm seemed to move in tighter. Cara closed her eyes. "It's okay. You're okay now. You can rest now. No one will ever hurt you again." Cara continued this for a couple hours.

She doubted she had said the perfect words, the words this kid really needed to hear, but she spoke what came to her mind. She listened, as the boy grew quiet. She felt him get closer to her, leaning into her, hugging her. The blood had felt wet when she sat down but it was only air by the end.

Cara's arm slid to her side and she opened her eyes. The boy was gone. Maybe just for now, but Cara hoped he had moved on for good. He deserved some peace.

Nightly visitors like him were not uncommon for Cara. The streets all across North America were paved with restless spirits. And she saw them all. Not all drew as much attention as this poor boy. Many, if Cara wasn't paying attention would blend in amongst the living, but she would always feel them.

Few other people saw spirits the way she did. It had been happening since the night her mom and step-dad were murdered, and her little brother was taken. Most spirits caused no harm, and simply weren't ready to move on (whether they had been waiting around for a day or a hundred years). Some spirits, like this boy, had died in such horrible circumstances that the shear agony and fear they had experienced kept them trapped in that moment. Cara felt this was truly tragic, and did all she could to help them move on, but sometimes even her best efforts weren't enough, and she would have to walk away from them.

Some spirits were filled with rage and wanted to do awful things to people. Although these spirits could be quite terrifying to the average person, they could rarely do any physical harm.

Demons were a different story though. And Cara saw them too.

In Perth County, an hour from this lovely motel, there was a twelve-year-old girl, Susan McDermott, who was possessed by a demon. In the morning, they would do all they could to save her.

At night, Cara did her best to block out the feelings, the voices, the screams, the dreams, the nightmares, but it was always a battle. There was so much evil in the world.

Cara stood up and went over to the lumpy bed. She didn't expect to sleep much tonight, but she was drained. Within a few minutes, she was out.

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